Mixed Fruit
by MsCongeniality
Summary: A collection of short pieces and drabbles. Thus far, written by request for specific challenges. Perhaps a broader range will come with time.
1. Spring

Mayuko sat under the kotatsu, just watching the snow accumulate on her apartment balcony, hiding the concrete under a blanket of dazzling white. The longer she sat, the more her thoughts turned inward, eventually returning to her college days and a similar afternoon spent under a similar kotatsu.

On that day, her pensive quiet had been broken by the smile of her best friend. Sighing quietly, she thought, 'What becomes of snow, indeed.'

She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and balancing her chin on her hand. There would be nobody walking through the door today, no spring to balance the cold outside. Spring had forgotten and moved on, she…

They had been left behind.

A gust of wind rattled the glass, and she looked up to see swirling eddies of snow sparkle in the light and Mayuko smiled. It was inevitable; spring would come again.


	2. Man and Everyman

Shigure sat at his desk, the cursor on the screen blinking at him in silent reproach. Not that they really _did_ that anymore, screens hadn't actually blinked in years. Nowadays cursors just sat there, immobile, as though daring you to come up with the words to push them across the page.

Stupid cursor.

It's not that he was _blocked_ exactly, great novelists like himself did not suffer such indignity. He did admit, though the words were not flowing as easily as they might and his thoughts seemed to have taken up the unfortunate habit of wandering. Each time he took up the plight of his protagonist, the 'everyman,' those thoughts would betray him, moving instead to the circumstances surrounding him. The people in his life, who were anything but normal, seemed intent on occupying the forefront of his mind.

It wasn't just the curse that made them extraordinary. While That set them apart, it wasn't what defined them--their personalities, their souls. No, his life was filled with a cast of remarkable characters, each brilliant, strong, creative and passioned in their own right. In his house alone, there was The Broken Girl with the heart of gold and the Doomed Boy with the spirit of fire. There was a Reluctant Prince who counted his worth in pennies and the Jester, watching from the sidelines and telling tales even as he planned his coronation.

No...the 'everyman' was outside his experience. He could, of course, write from his experience but it's a poor novelist who can't make things up. Besides...nobody would ever believe the truth.


	3. Determination

Rin was strong willed, there was no denying it. Ask any of them to describe her and inevitably some variation on it would be brought up – whether they thought of it as strength or stubbornness rather depended on who it was you spoke to.

For his part, Shigure felt that she was just plain foolish. She was playing with things she didn't understand without so much as an attempt at investigation beforehand. She allowed the wrong people to lead her astray and while, in its own way, that could further his own ends, he did rather _like_ the girl and didn't especially enjoy seeing her in pain.

If Rin continued like this, he had no doubt she'd be hurt again—probably worse this time. No, it would be better for all of them if she would just stop meddling .He smiled, leaning back a bit in his chair and shaking his head. Of course she wouldn't stop, she couldn't. If she did, it wouldn't be Rin.

_A/N: I started by trying to think about Rin's character and somehow ended up with this. I'm not 100 certain I like it, but thought I'd share nonetheless._


	4. The Purpose of Nostalgia

_A/N: Written in response to Niamh St.George's 'The More Things Change' collected in 'Bite Sized Fruit'. Originally intended as a 'missing scene' from Vol. 2/Chapter 9 of the Manga where Hatori visits Kaibara High._

**The Purpose of Nostalgia**

The high school Cultural Festival, for most it was the kind of event that might evoke a fond nostalgia for 'days gone past,' but Sohma Hatori wasn't particularly given to that sort of thing. Besides, he wasn't here to enjoy himself; there was business to be done. As he scanned the crowd in an attempt to keep track of Momiji, there was a brief moment of recognition when he saw a familiar face among the many, one he couldn't quite put into context. He considered a moment, then turned back, hoping to pick her out of the crowd and pin down that errant voice at the back of his mind whispering 'You _know_ her,' but he'd gotten too far away. His stubborn insistence on going without glasses whenever possible meant that he was at a disadvantage at times like this. Simply put, his vision wasn't what it had once been.

With a slight frown, Hatori turned back to the task at hand. He used color and movement to easily pick out the energetic Rabbit among the calmer, uniformed students and increased his pace to catch up with the boy just as he bounded in to one of the classrooms. The walls were blazoned with banners and posters, but it was a small printed sheet immediately next to the door that caught Hatori's attention.

**Class 1-D**

**Onigiri Shop**

Shiraki Mayuko, Teacher

The sign went on to list the class representatives and roster of students, but Hatori never made it past the third line.

'Mayuko, here. That...explains it then.'

It seemed as though he'd been standing, affixed by this simple sheet of paper, for some time but in reality it could have been for no more than a moment or two. Hatori heard exclamations and commotion from inside the room and realized that they were, without a doubt, the result of Momiji's entrance. He was here for a reason, and nostalgia would have to wait.

It wasn't until some time later, after Momiji had transformed back and he found himself ensconced in the first floor lounge waiting for the school to page Honda Tohru, that he allowed his thoughts to turn back to that glimpse through the crowd. Hatori lit a cigarette and took a rare moment to indulge his memories.

Shiraki Mayuko, Kana's best friend. He hadn't seen her since then, hadn't seen her since before Kana had been sent away, really. He'd still been healing himself, of no use to anybody let alone as comfort to the woman he loved and certainly in no condition to handle Mayuko. Shigure had taken care of her, it was only appropriate he be the one to do so after all. They'd allowed her just enough knowledge about Kana's…condition to keep her curiosity at bay, then arranged for the two women to see one another. Shigure had handled all of it.

He took a particularly long draw on his cigarette, then carefully regarded the end before tipping the ashes into a waiting tray. He wondered briefly, idly, if she had seen him through the crowd. Shaking his head as if to clear the uncharacteristic desire to somehow connect with his past, he gave a slight snort, exhaling long streams of smoke through his nostrils.

It was a foolish, wasteful thought. Even if she had, what then? She certainly hadn't chosen to make herself known to him and he'd hardly blame her for it. After all, what was there he _could_ possibly say? What kind of apology could compare to the damage he'd done to someone she cared so deeply about--and then compounded by sending that person away. No...even if she'd seen him, she had avoided him with good reason.

Stubbing out the remains of his cigarette, Hatori lit a fresh one and angled his chair so he faced the door. Honda Tohru was still coming and that at least was one situation still nominally under control. There was still time to step in, to impress on her the realities of their situation. Thinking of the woman upstairs who'd lost her friend, and the woman he'd loved who'd lost...so much more than that only strengthened his resolve in that respect.

'Sometimes,' he mused. 'Perhaps nostalgia does serve a purpose.'


	5. Tomorrow

It was here. The final banquet he'd always imagined but never quite believed in came to him, came to all of them. After, he sat with his two friends, the only friends he'd allowed himself over the years, sharing a bottle of sake and…not mourning their loss, but feeling its absence together. The freedom that must be heady for the younger ones weighed more heavily for the three men who had been of the Juunishi.

Hatori poured out another round of drinks and raised his cup without comment. Tonight was time enough to dwell on what they had shared and what they had lost. Tomorrow would be a new world. Tomorrow was the open door of opportunities he'd never even allowed himself to consider. Tomorrow, he would contemplate his future.


	6. Metaphorically Speaking

The time was here, it was finally happening. The girl had been the one to tip the balance, just as he'd known—just as he'd planned. And now, with Her world dismantling itself, it was time.

He could take the pieces of that world, re-form them around him. The metaphors no longer applied; the bird had flown his cage, the dog would no longer be on a leash. It would be only him and his God, a man and his woman. There might not be a happily ever after, but then, the story wasn't over yet.

_Words: 96_


End file.
